You see more butt shots than a gastroenterologist.
You can tell how bad a kid is in pain by the type of cry.
You actually teach your kid the diarrhea songs without thinking of public consequences once.
Your kitchen tools become tools of destruction or honor depending on the mood.
You giggle over things said like this, "Your scream is creepy, but you are beautiful."
You actually have a bathroom word run down before you leave the car. Do not say...
Your sink looks like this on occasion:
There are days when the fact that your armpits don't smell, the children are intact, and the house is standing is considered a good day.
You've rediscovered the joy of all types of spraying water.
You make up really off lyrics to kid songs with your spouse.
Sunshine, kid sweat, and sunblock is one of your favorite smell combos.
The surge of love you feel when a tiny hand slips into yours.
Referring a fight over a 6 inch piece of string is normal.
Finding cars shoved under your pillow makes you smile.
You are in awe that you and your spouse created the most amazing and complex mammals.
Sometimes you forget that they are mammals and not tiny, little brain sucking aliens.
You don't feel bad typing sentences like the above because humor is mandatory.
Your husband willingly agrees to go to the store, and you know that he is coming back with something for the boys that he thought of. Or is that only a thing that goes on in our house?
You actually wonder if there is any merit in the idea that peeing on a bad guy will make them go away. I mean, really, who wants to stick around someone who pees on them?
You type out a blog, mention bathroom stuff more than socially acceptable, and then realize maybe you need more alone time.
